


when you talk you hardly even look in my eyes

by racheltuckerrr



Series: build it better [2]
Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Awkward Married Dating, Complicated Relationships, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 22:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19282882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/racheltuckerrr/pseuds/racheltuckerrr
Summary: picks up right after persephone is dropped off in part one. hades receives an invitation from his wife, confusion abounds and first steps are made in a VERY careful dance.





	when you talk you hardly even look in my eyes

**Author's Note:**

> so this got a bit more wordy than the last, oops. enjoy.

Persephone left the train - and his life, for the next six months - trailing behind only the sweet smell of flowers that would soon turn to rot in her absence.

Not even a minute later, cheers and hollers echoed around the station, accompanied by the clinking of glasses as the people welcomed Spring back to the mortal realm, a caravan already banding together to sing her praises.

Meanwhile, Hades was left standing there in stunned silence, muscles belatedly waking up as he reached up to encircle the space occupied by his wife only moments ago, hands clenched into tight fists when all they touched instead was air.

_Gods, that woman._

Always slippin’ through his fingers, no matter how hard he tried to keep her in his arms, keep her with him.

He sighed, rubbing his face, and with a snap of his fingers the train began rolling in the opposite direction, back towards his home. The pace was unforgiving, and Persephone would have chided him for it, but Hades didn't mind it; since she wasn't with him anymore, there was no need to draw out the journey, he needed to get home to catch up on some work anyway.

Not much else to do for him in the summertime 'cept working and thinkin' bout her. And so he did. He thought about what she might be doing, who she might be seeing, how she might be feeling, now that she was free of his helltown - _her_ words. Thought about her in other ways too, ways that were harder to imagine lately while she was still around, for all the irony. Thought about the possibility that she might be thinkin' bout him too.

_Silly old man._

But then...there was something about her, about _them_ , this go ‘round that shifted, just before she left, that gave Hades hope. And hope had always been a dangerous thing for the king of the dead.

And, of course, there was always the trade. The eternal trading of souls, that stopped to rest for nothing and no one. Not even him. Sometimes Hades thought that even after they were all well and truly gone from this world, gods and men alike, and there was no one left to man the scales or pass judgement or take whoever was left into the next life...he thought that even then, the trade would still be there.

"How many?" Hades asked Charon, in lieu of a greeting, when the next shipment arrived at his stone borders.

In his head, he was already mentally calculating how best to house the newcomers. Not that Hadestown was short on space, or commodities, but it was no easy task to care for an ever-expanding kingdom of souls, and nobody knew that better than the king.

"Almost twice as many as last week," Charon replied. "Must be the long winter."

"Yeah, so I've been told," Hades snapped a little harsher than he intended, rubbing his face, not at all liking where this was going. "Believe me, the wife already put me in my place. I don't need to hear it from you too."

"Excuse my sayin' so, but are you gonna listen to her this time?" Charon continued pestering him, never one to be deterred by his boss’ moods. Hades narrowed his eyes and leveled him with what he hoped was a threatening glare, but the smile never left his courier’s face as he tacked on for the sake of posterity and not much else, "...sir."

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Hades threw his hands up, letting out a bitter laugh that has been working to fight its way out ever since the moment she stepped off his train. "Summer is staying up-top this year as long as she damn well pleases."

 _And to hell with what I want._  

His foul mood followed him around on his rounds as he went around his kingdom, watching and observing and making sure that everything was in order, much as it could be in a place like Hadestown. He checked the mines, and the factories, and the foundries, and avoided her little bar on the edge of the forest that he was not supposed to know about.

Nor was he supposed to know that the Songbird disappeared from his mines to go work for the missus instead; not that he minded. That was a particular mistake that he would gladly repent for in any way she saw fit, and if this was it, then he got off easy. He hadn’t talked to the girl since her poet went back up, and he didn’t much feel like talking to her now, so if Persephone felt like taking the poor thing under her own wings out of pity, then it was no business of his.

Hades deflated a bit as he finished his tour, his dog at his feet, and entered his home at last, feeling a pang at how empty it felt now that he wasn't sharing it with her.

Even in her prickliest, booziest, most vicious moments, even when she wouldn’t look at him or talk to him, the sheer presence of his wife was undeniable and it blanketed him even when her affection did not, and in a way Hades has come to rely on that comfort more than anything else lately.

He shook his head, berating himself for such thoughts, then startled as he noted his surroundings.

Somehow, he found himself in front of her bedroom - that is, the one she liked to sleep in lately when she wasn't sleeping next to him - that was just down the hall from his, but even closer to his office, which was coincidentally where he spent most of his time as of late. That was another thing about Persephone: she wasn’t always close, but she was never too far either; if only he knew how to bridge that remaining gap between them, to bring her back to where she belonged, once and for all.

Hades didn’t mean to pry, would never dream of doing so if she were here, but the door was already wide open as she probably left it in her haste to get out of here, and he missed her already...so he caved, and stepped inside. He was instantly surrounded by her scent, and it took him by surprise how much that affected him, though it probably shouldn’t have. He was being a big old fool, and he knew it, but it couldn’t be helped. He made her hastily left bed, and gingerly sat on it, trying not to feel sorry for himself.

 _Get it together, old man_.

Probably better that she wasn’t here to see this, she would kick the shit out of his old butt for brooding so about her bein’ gone when all they did when they were together these days was fight. So instead, Hades opted to think about what he could do to soften her countenance, make her think of him even slightly better while she was up there since his previous ideas had all spectacularly backfired.

He used to send her riches, silver and gold and all manner of expensive cloth to adorn herself with; figured if his wife couldn't boast about the man she married, at least she could boast about the wealth and prosperity he kept her in.

But Persephone had told him long ago that she didn't want his gold and silver, and it was true: for a woman who didn't shy away from the hedonistic pleasures in life, his wife cared very little about material things. It always puzzled him, but then, lately Hades began to think that she may have been sent to him by the Fates for that exact reason; he feared the day he finally managed to solve the great mystery of her would be the day she stepped out of his life for good.

He felt something wet on his palm, and looked down just in time to see the flower bloom from between his hands, right in the place his tear had fallen, red as blood and as alive as nothing had a right to be in his domain.

A living contradiction, just like his wife.

Miraculous as it was, he knew very well that it wouldn't survive the journey to her, no matter how badly he wanted to show it to her. Hades was a man of few words and Persephone knew that better than anyone, but surely this godly manifestation of his love for her would need no explanation, and she would see his intent for what it was: a declaration.

_I love you. Still. Forever._

Hades made a decision then, got up from the bed and left her sanctuary to step into his office, the delicate thing clasped gently between his calloused fingers. He found some paper and a big old book and pressed the little thing between them until it was completely flat, decidedly no longer alive but still physically intact, beautiful and red. And ready to be posted, if not signed or accompanied by any words that might sour his gift in her eyes.

He had Hermes deliver it to her directly, did not rest until the messenger confirmed that the package had been received, waited and hoped that she would be pleased by it. But he got no reply. Not after the first, or the second, or even the third.

It was the middle of July and despite the radio silence that, looking back on it later, probably should have worried him more than it did at the time, he was yet again preparing another red flower to send to her, when he heard the train whistle in the distance. He left the pressed flower in his desk drawer and went outside to investigate as he wasn’t expecting a new shipment until the end of the week. 

Smoke billowed from the engine still, and Hades suspected that whatever Hermes was here for wouldn’t take more than a minute or two, and for that he was grateful. When he got close enough, the messenger handed him a manila envelope with a very familiar seal on it; not that he needed proof of who it was from, having recognized the lettering on the back instantly, bearing his name. It was Persephone's lazy but distinct cursive.

He kept his expression neutral as he took the letter and tucked it inside his breast pocket - right over his heart - even as Hermes was watching him, smirking like mad.

“Is she well?” Hades asked the only question that mattered, ignoring the look, hoping that Hermes knew better than to voice whatever thoughts it was meant to convey.

“Ask her yourself, if you really wanna know,” he said with a shrug and a salute, “I may be your messenger, but I ain't yer marriage counsellor.”

And then he was off again. Hades snorted.

He opened the letter, expecting to see some sort of message for him, written in her neat script. It had been a while since they've written to each other, and he was anxious to see what she had to say. Did she like his gift? Did she hate it?

Instead, the paper opened to reveal a small golden ticket with a date and time engraved on one side of it, and an image of a snow-covered mountain top on the other. It was an invitation, and he knew exactly where he was meant to go even without an address, but that did not explain in the slightest why in the world Persephone would want him there.

He assumed this was her way of asking him to accompany her to Zeus' latest blowout, but they haven't been to one of those of their own free will in...well, the last couple thousand years at least, if not longer. What could have possessed her to want to attend this time? Not that there was a choice to be made here for Hades; this was the only thing his wife offered him all summer, and he would be a fool not to take it, which is probably why she didn’t include any further instructions.

He just hoped it didn’t turn out to be all a big joke at his expense.

 

* * *

 

His youngest brother’s not-so-humble abode sat atop the sacred mountain range, high above what was considered known landscape in the eyes of mere mortals, but every god in their Pantheon knew it well. Most have been summoned here at one point or another, and those that Zeus considered to be his inner circle could be found invariably livin’ it up as it were, often to the detriment of their other - and Hades thought much more important - obligations.

He supposed that line of thinking was one of the reasons why he was excused from having to attend them, among other things.

Hades wasn’t very close with his family, he preferred to stay out of their affairs and he expected the same courtesy in return. Nevertheless, he and Persephone still got invited to most of the events, if not for any other reason, then on account of being the representatives of one third of the immortal realms.

He was standing at the entrance to Olympus, surveying the tasteless golden doors of the elevator in the side of the cliff that seemed to appear out of nothing at the touch of his hands - the sole means of transportation to Zeus’ villa that revealed itself to their kin and their kin only - and feeling mighty uncomfortable, wondering for the hundredth time why he even bothered to show up.

And then he saw her with her mother, approaching from the opposite way he had just come; his wife. Persephone noticed him at the same time and she came to him, looking almost shy and altogether very different from the last time he had seen her and he wondered what prompted the change.

"Hey lover," she greeted him as soon as she got close enough to do so.

Indeed her dress was new, a flowing summer thing the colour of warm orange and red with quite an impressive cut at the front; her hair was pinned at the sides but otherwise let loose as she usually liked to wear it, and she had a good bit of makeup on too if he was not mistaken.

Hades didn’t quite know what to make of all that, but he went along with it for the time being, debating for a moment about what greeting she would prefer. In the end he decided to play it safe by taking her hand to kiss it lightly as he said hello, before letting it go again.

She bit her lip, looking almost disappointed and he wished he knew what was going on in that pretty head of hers. A few hundred years ago, even less, he would've just kissed the pout and the lipstick off her face even in front of her mother, but Demeter or not, they haven't been on kissin' terms in a while and he was hesitant to upset the tentative peace they had going for them.

“Demeter,” he said, turning to greet the goddess of harvest. “It has been some time, I wish you well.”

“Hades,” the curt acknowledgment of his name was all his sister offered him in return, and Hades nodded, as politely as he could muster. There was no love lost between them, but for the sake of Persephone, he’d always tried his best to be civil, even if it was hardly reciprocated. 

Looking only at his wife now, Hades motioned for the two women to step into the elevator, the doors closing behind him as he followed suit. It wasn’t a terribly long ride, but the air was thick with tension, and Hades knew that if it made him feel this uncomfortable, then Persephone must be feeling it tenfold, so he wracked his brain for something to say to fill the silence.

“I could’ve picked you up,” he offered, despite knowing it wasn’t a great conversation starter, even for him. He saw Demeter roll her eyes from the corner of his eye, and pointedly ignored it.

“Nah, it’s alright,” Persephone told him, swinging her hands by her sides like she didn’t know what else to do with them.

Did she want him to hold her hand? _Surely not,_  Hades thought and stuffed his venom down as far as it would go, on top of the rest. No point of wishing on stars, Persephone was not a shy woman by any means; if she wanted something she would let him know one way or another.

At least she was still wearing his ring around her finger, and - only now did he notice - her nails were done as well, which he knew for a fact she never bothered with ‘cause she didn’t think she was any good, yet now she sported a bright crimson to go with the pattern of her flowery dress. She looked really nice, but then she always did, and he didn’t quite understand why a party at his brother’s, of all things, was deserving of her efforts.

“Didn’t wanna trouble ya.”

“It’s no trouble,” he said gently, looking for a compromise, but she wouldn’t meet his eye, and he genuinely didn’t know what he’d done this time. He smoothed his fingers down the front of his pinstripe suit, flattening invisible wrinkles, suddenly feeling underdressed in spite of himself. “No trouble at all.”

“You’ve got enough on your plate as is,” Persephone said then, looking up at him with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher, and the elevator gave a way too cheerful ding a second later, announcing their arrival.

Hades had the feeling that it would be a longer day than even he had anticipated.

There, at the top of Mount Olympus, stood Zeus’ imposing home, but he paid it little mind. He barely even registered Demeter waving at Persephone as she strutted ahead to greet the other gods, leaving the two of them to their own devices; probably a wise choice on her part.

“That may be, but so have you,” he frowned, well and truly confused at this point by his wife’s uncharacteristic behaviour, “and yet here we are.”

He planned to sound gentle, but it came out rash, and Persephone’s eyes widened, her own uncertainty suddenly clear as day to him. It was such an unfamiliar sight on the face of someone usually so fierce and unapologetic that it took him aback for a moment.

Maybe Hades wasn’t the only one on uneven terrain. Maybe she was just as lost about what to do next as he was; there was a dark sort of comfort to be taken in that, and he took it, offering in exchange, “It is good to see you, lover, even if this is the last place I expected you’d wish to meet.”

There was an unspoken question in his voice, and she shrugged. “I thought it might...be nice, a change of scenery. Take your mind off the work at home, and mine back at mama’s. Thought it would do the both of us some good to go out and get to relax a bit.”

Hades raised his brows in surprise but didn’t question her explanation. Nor did he point out the fact that a night on Olympus didn’t really count as relaxing in either of their books.

What he did instead was hold out an arm for her to take. She did so without hesitation, and they walked through his brother’s wrought iron gates together, arm in arm.

Even if Hades didn't particularly enjoy being on Olympus, the prospect of spending an entire summer evening by Persephone's side was not an unwelcome one, and he thought maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

That is, until his brothers spotted him and dragged him down on the klismos between them at the table which was decidedly not next to his wife. Hades glanced at her and just caught her mournful expression as Persephone too was snatched away by Hestia and Artemis who descended on her almost immediately, amidst a chorus of “we missed you”s and Hades went back to brooding right quick after they traded a last wistful glance with each other.

Logically, he knew that missin’ her was a right that did not solely belong to him, but damn, if he didn’t forget it sometimes. Especially with how easy it was for him to fall into feeling it again, even now that they were both here.

The next couple hours dragged on at a snail’s pace, and Hades didn’t know if he was asleep or just bored out of his mind. Possibly both.

He was now sitting a respectable distance away from his other brother - who was rapidly growing drunker and louder as time went on - and his circle of entertainers at the head of the table, while pretending to carry a half-hearted conversation with Poseidon and Amphitrite about the trading business overseas.

His attention, however, was on the goddess across the room, sitting on a chaise lounge and chatting with her sisters. She looked like she was having fun at least, while he was stuck at the long dining table with the cream of the crop; Hades could've sworn Zeus had them specifically designed that way to trap them all in unpleasant conversation until everyone was drunk enough to endure one of his boozy speeches.

"Oh, damn it to Atlantis, here he goes again!" Poseidon raised his cup a moment later with a boisterous laugh and pointed to their little brother as he stood on unsteady legs, clearing his throat. He sat forward, apparently eager to see Zeus humiliate himself for all the Pantheon to see. “Every damn year, man.”

Hades decidedly did not share his excitement. He groaned, pained beyond measure, his head hitting the table with a dull thud as he muttered "I want to go home," more to himself than anyone in particular. 

"Now there, lover, and miss _this_?" Hades snapped his head up so fast his neck would've surely broke if he was mortal. Persephone was looking at him with amusement in her brown eyes as she drew an empty chair up next to his, sitting closer than he anticipated. "Hello, husband." 

"Hello yourself," he croaked, and pushed his bowl of grapes closer to her on the white tablecloth.

She gave him a tiny smile and took a vine to snack on as they observed the mighty ruler of Olympus make a right fool of himself in front of anyone who would listen. Hades was acutely reminded why he and his wife decided early on not to frequent such festivities.

"Sorry I was away so long, the women in this family are a relentless bunch of crones," Persephone shuffled a bit closer so as to be heard over the noise. "Hestia complained about never seeing us anymore. Wants a dinner invitation."

"Course she does," he huffed, but secretly didn't actually mind. His eldest sister was probably the only relative both he and Persephone could tolerate for more than just a couple hours. And, he supposed, the reverse was also true; not many sons or daughters of the sheltered and shiny golden mountain dared to venture down into his neck of the woods, and Hades couldn’t say he particularly minded. “Hope you told her she better come alone if she knows what’s good for her.”

“I did,” Persephone chuckled and Hades felt a sudden warmth burning the pit of his stomach, hotter than the fire in his foundries. Oh, how he missed her laugh. “Don’t you worry, old man, I know ya.”

"Then I'll arrange it after you're home again."

He didn't mean to sound bitter, he really didn't, but he must not have quite managed it, because the smile on her face vanished. She didn't say anything though just kept lookin' at him.

Hades was familiar with her many stares, but what this one meant exactly was still a mystery to him even after all this time. The urge to hold her hand from earlier returned, and his hand twitched in his lap, but still he could not reach for her, afraid that she would not want his touch. He wasn’t his brother, but Hades was still a proud man, a _god_ , and he would not risk her rejection in such a public place.

In the end, he didn’t have to, because she risked it for him, taking his hand instead.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asked, squeezing her hand. She squeezed back and didn’t let go. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Persephone held onto his hand as they made their timely escape, giggling behind him when Zeus announced that the dance floor was open and the abominable sounds of techno music started bouncing off the walls of the ancient greek interior.

“I suddenly seem to recall why we never come here,” Hades looked back at her over his shoulder, and allowed a half-smile at her echoing of his own thoughts. Persephone shrugged, looking a mite more relaxed now than she did before. They ended up walking in the gardens, outside the mansion and away from the commotion that they left behind. The calming atmosphere of the open sky and the sound of the nearby fountain was a welcome relief, and Hades had to admit that there was something to be said about being above ground at a time like this. “This was a terrible idea, wasn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say terrible,” he answered as he finally turned to look at her.

She was beautiful, illuminated by moonlight, and standing there in the garden of his brother’s estate, it occurred to him that despite barely being in her presence, tonight was in fact still some of the best quality time they spent together in recent memory. He could’ve sworn to Styx that he heard the soft thrumming of a lyre being played as he put his hand out in wordless invitation. She took it, carefully stepping into his arms as if she too was scared to shatter this moment.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Persephone said eventually into the quiet night, as they slowly moved in step with each other. He hummed. “And for the flowers as well. I know I ain’t done this right, any of it...” she said, trailing off as she gestured at herself and their general location.

Hades frowned, not understanding until he looked closer and saw the crown of dried flowers delicately woven into her hair, illuminated by the naked moonlight, and he thought he understood, though the thought baffled him beyond measure. Did she do all this for him? The party, the dress, the makeup...everything. Was this her way of trying to mend their fences, so to speak?

 _Oh, what a pair of fools we are_ , Hades thought. And then: didn’t she know? He didn’t need any of this, and he never has. All he ever needed was the two of them together, plain and simple.

Well...not so simple, was it? 

“I just don’t know why this is so damn hard all of a sudden,” her voice broke through his musings, bringing him back to the moment, and to her. She looked exhausted beyond measure, and finally he understood that the distance between them was not only affecting him but her too, just the same.

“What is?”

“You _know_ what,” Persephone sighed. “This, us. You and me. Ever since that boy, Hades...I can’t help thinkin’ that things are not as they should be, that _we_ are not. And I know I been blamin’ you more than I should have, and you let me. And I wish you wouldn’t because I’ve been right awful to you, lover.” 

“Persephone,” he was speechless. He didn’t expect them to talk, not here and not now, and certainly not about that. But apparently Persephone was on a roll, and he wouldn’t ever dream of stopping her.

"I'm your _wife_ and you're scared to touch me, kiss me,” she hissed over his shoulder, avoiding his eyes like it was nobody’s business. She shook her head, looking embarrassed, and rested her head on his shoulder to hide her face. “That ain't right, ain't natural." 

"You ain't seemed to like when I kissed ya of late," he said, shrugging as if it didn't affect him. "So I didn't." She burrowed deeper into him, and the weight of her sharp jaw pressing into his bones was a welcome reminder that she was still there, even as they did not speak for a long time after that.

"When did we go so wrong, Hades?" she pleaded for an answer and he wished he could give it to her, but it wasn’t so.

“You tell me, lover, because I don’t know.”

They sank into the silence, neither knowing quite what to say as they swayed together, barely, still relearning how it felt to be sharing the same space without the easy familiarity of a fight to hide behind. And then Persephone surprised him yet again with her boldness as she leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

"For the record, I’ve _always_ liked it,” the tone of her voice made Hades freeze right where he stood. “You kissin' me. You touchin' me.” He swore his heart was beating outside of his chest somewhere because the pounding in his ears was as loud as if he were banging on an oil drum. “I miss it. Miss _you._ " He tried to lean back because he suddenly had an inexplicable urge to look at her face as she was saying this. She didn’t let him though, his wife; just tightened her arms around him, weaving them together behind his neck as she whispered in his ear, suddenly all quiet and as unsure as Persephone ever got with him, “Please, don’t.”

So Hades didn’t. Instead, he lowered his hands from their tentative place on her shoulder, and following her cues, settled them on either side of her waist, tightening his grip slightly. It was a far cry from not being awkward still, but he didn’t want to push his luck right now when she was clearly so frazzled.

“I know it ain’t a good sign, and we got a lot of work to do on this as well, but the truth of it is...it’s so much easier to talk to you like this, baby.” She huffed in his ear, her warm breath ghosting over the back of his neck making him shiver; he let out a grunt, half in acknowledgment, half trying to cover up how much her words were affecting him. But he also knew exactly what she meant, and he told her so. Persephone laughed then, a tiny, fragile little sound that echoed around inside him, filling him with new light. “What a pair of old fools we are, my husband. I want to get better though, I’d like to try. That is if...if you’re willing to try with me.”

Hades closed his eyes, the emotion overwhelming him even as he wasn’t looking at her. His hand came up of its own accord, lightly skimming her hair before threading itself through the curls like he used to do whenever he wanted to comfort her. She shivered in his arms, but only seemed to want to cling to him tighter, so he let her.

“Hades?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

He did draw back from her then, despite her protests, prying her small hands apart and holding them in his own, much bigger ones as he finally got a good look at her face.

She was a right mess, his wife.

Mascara running, hair disheveled from his fingers, and eyes pleading with him for something. He wasn’t even sure she herself knew what. And in that moment - much like that first time in her mother’s garden - she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

“You didn’t ask me a question,” he said, tracing his thumb over her wet face, drying the tears as best as he could with just his fingers. Persephone frowned at his childish logic. “You know wh-”

But he didn’t let her finish, cupping her cheek and leaning down to kiss her instead. Nothing fancy, as Hades never was, but he put as much of his love into that kiss as he could manage, knowing full well that while they were in relative privacy, there could be any number of prying Olympian eyes on them.

Persephone whimpered into his mouth, hands tight in his shirt as she pulled him even closer, and for the first time in a long time, Hades didn’t give a fucking damn about who saw them. He’d deal with his brothers later and not a moment before.

Her eyes were wide with wonder and her face flushed crimson after they pulled back, and she was looking at him again like she did when the poet sang his song in his underground kingdom; Hades himself was back in the cruel clutches of hope and thoughts of what could be, no longer content with what was.

“How’s that for an answer?” he asked, voice as low as the bottom of his mines. Persephone smiled at him with a genuine twinkle in her eyes, as she said, “It’s a start.”

 

* * *

 

And it was.

Even if things didn’t exactly go smoothly after that, they kept talking at least, his wife kept writing him and he always wrote her back as soon as he was able. Work didn’t let up for a moment, as usual, but his workers seemed less anxious if no less exhausted, and Hades considered some small changes.

It wasn’t easy for a man to change his ways just as it wasn’t easy to remake a town that’s already been built, but the first step was to be willing to try at all, so Hades worked on that as he waited for Persephone to return to him so they could try to change things together. That was all he ever really wanted anyway, and still did, however messed up his way to communicate it to her has been. He wanted them to work together again like they used to, instead of working against each other at every step. 

So he tried to be patient and focused on mindin' their business in the meantime, and then one day in the middle of October he heard the train whistle when he wasn’t expectin’ passengers and he knew instantly that she’s come home.

And for the first time in a long time, Hades didn’t doubt that it was because she _wanted_ to.

**Author's Note:**

> \- the dress and overall look is from miss glamber's latest photoshoot, particularly [this picture](https://imaging.broadway.com/images/custom/w1470/109724-0.jpg)
> 
> \- klismos is a type of ancient greek chair with a curved backrest and tapering, nothing too fancy though


End file.
